


Bird Scissors Part 2

by ltskiki



Series: Bird Scissors [2]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Series, Self-Harm, otgw - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ltskiki/pseuds/ltskiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wirt and Greg return to the Unknown and hang out with Beatrice and friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bird Scissors Part 2

"Hurry up, Greg!" Wirt called behind him, shaking off a stray leaf from his hair.  
"Are we there yet?" Greg complained, running to catch up to his older brother.  
"Almost, the graveyard's only a few blocks away." Wirt replied. Sure enough, they ventured up the top of the hill, and the cemetery was in sight. They raced down the sidewalk, gravity making them go much faster. Once they reached the bottom, Wirt felt himself losing control as his feet went faster than his body could handle, and he tumbled into a shrub.  
"Wirt! Are you okay?" Greg ran to him, sweating soaking his brown hair from the summer heat.  
"Yeah, I'm fine." He sat up, examining the blood pooling from a scrape on his knee. He regretted the self mutilation from the day before, it prevented him from wearing shorts without alerting his parents or whoever else of it; now his pants were grass stained and ripped.  
"I put the Dino Bandaids in your backpack, hold on!" Greg yelled in his usual loud tone, scrambling to find the tin in Wirt's discarded bag.  
"It's just a scrape, Greg, don't have a cow." He tried waving him off.  
"I'll have as many cows as I please." Greg retorted, slapping a pterodactyl bandaid over his knee.  
"Thanks." Wirt breathed distractedly. His eyes were fixed momentarily on the drops of blood staining the denim of his jeans.  
"Wirt?" His brother shook his hands in front of his eyes. Wirt's head snapped up, sensing the concern in Greg's voice.He stood up, wincing slightly. "Let's go."  
They entered the cemetery gates, feeling the hot summer breeze on their faces. Wirt knew Greg had gone here with Sara often, but Wirt always stayed behind. While Greg had stayed in stable condition on the way to the hospital, Wirt had been rendered unconscious by the water. The doctor told him he had almost fallen into a coma from the lack of oxygen to his brain.  
Greg weaved through the graves, exciting to see his old friends. He began climb up a tree hanging over the wall, whistling loudly. "Greg, be careful! " Wirt called out. Just at that moment, his little brother's foot slipped from one of the branches, hitting his head on the grey stones and falling to the other side. "Greg!" Wirt yelled, scrambling to the wall. He swiftly made it to the too and tumbled down onto the dirt. It looked different. The stream was gone, replaced by rolling fields. But there didn't seem to be any crops growing, just bumpy rows as far as he could see. "Greg?" He tried shaking the crumpled body of his brother's, but he didn't move. Panicked, Wirt checked his heartbeat and breathing. They were both steady. He coughed as a wind picked up, blowing soil into his lungs. "Come on, Greg, get up. This isn't funny." The sky turned dark and he spotted clouds circling in the distance. It was a dust storm. Struggling to breath, Wirt covered his face with his one arm and tried using the other to push Greg over the wall. He couldn't breathe, if he did he would just choke on the dry dirt and suffocate. Wirt felt his head getting heavy as the wind knocked him to the ground. °●°●°●°●°●°●°●° Opening his eyes, Wirt spit the soil out of his mouth. The scenery was completely different, rich foliage and a certain dampness, almost like a rainforest. His dry lungs rejoiced at the moist air. He knew this place. It was the Unknown. "Greg?" Wirt turned around sharply. To his relief, the eight year old was lying on the ground, attempting to eat a leaf. "Stop it." He said mildly, taking the leaf from Greg. "Leaves were invented by vegetarians so they wouldn't have to hurt other vegetables. That's a rock fact!" "Do you know where we are?" Wirt's eyes scanned their surroundings. It felt familiar. "Are we lost again?" Greg asked. "No, no! Look there's a trail right there. This looks like the same area from Halloween!" "Are we gonna go to Beatrice's house?" Greg asked excitedly. Wirt nodded his said and they started walking down the path. Only a few minutes later, Wirt glanced behind him and didn't find his little brother. "Greg?" He yelled for what seemed the millionth Tim that day. "Jason Funderberker!" He heard a high pitched voice reply. Greg ran back to him, holding a familiar green frog in his outstretched arms. "Hey, buddy!" He scratched under the frog's chin. He must not have recognized Wirt without his pointy hat, and leaped onto Greg's head, frightened. Greg laughed.

They continued on the trail, eventually arriving to the woodsman's house. He rejoiced at seeing them, and introduced Wirt to his daughter. He felt a bit uncomfortable when she looked at him, then giggled. He just tried to control his blushing while Greg played with one of the axes littered about the house.  
After the pairs had caught up with each other, Wirt and Greg bid goodbye as they continued down the dirt path.  
"We're going to see Beatrice's house, we're going to see Beatrice's house! We're going to see Beatrice's and also some other birds' house! " Greg sang as they went along.  
"That didn't rhyme." Wirt said with a forces smile. It was strange seeing the Unknown. .thrive. Back in October, there was always a bitter wind, a feeling of strangeness that overcome your soul. Now it could be any land filled with talking animals and skeletons walking around.  
Speaking of which, they encountered the pumpkin people of Pottsfield yet again. While they had all the time in the world to stay, Wirt preferred to keep going. The village inhabits were jolly, dancing and singing all day, but after finding out what was under their false pumpkin skins, they creeped him out, no matter how harmless they may be.  
All the while on their journey, Wirt felt his body tensing up with every step, even with the incentive of seeing their dear friend Beatrice once again. His skin crawled and he knew what had to be done.  
"Greg, you stay here." He pointed to the large stump his younger brother sat upon. "I need to go, uh, to the bathroom. I'll be right back! Just..stay there. "  
"I haven't seen any bathrooms in these woods yet." Greg called after him. Wirt ignored him, shoving his hands into his pockets.  
Once Wirt felt he was a safe distance away, he sat down at the base of a tree. He would have to be quick; he was on a limb trusting Greg to be alone for even a minute, but he didn't have a choice. Exhaling, partly from relief, Wirt dug his small black scissors from his pocket.  
Looking around, he didn't know If he felt safe taking his pants off when he had no idea where he was. Deciding that his wrist was the best place, he rolled up his sleeve.  
It was better than he could have imagined. Instead of the dull, throbbing pain of a fleshy thigh, he experienced a sharp sting that made his vision blurry with delight. As he raised his right hand for another slice, he heard rustling behind him.  
"Greg?" Wirt called out, clumsily shoving down the sleeves of his yellow sweater.  
"Wirt!" A women with dark red hair burst through the brush, squeezing him into a hug.  
He knew he should've been confused, but he would recognize her voice anywhere.  
"Beatrice." He breathed, clumsily hugging her back.

"You're taller. " Beatrice breathed into his hair.  
"Says you! You're a girl! I mean, a human girl, obviously you're a girl-" Wirt stopped himself when he found he was blushing. "Yeah, it took awhile, but me and my family got all our feathers off. Sometimes my dad still eats worms though. I think he just likes them."

Wirt laughed, glad to see his old friend.  
''Hey, where's Greg?''  
''He's here somewhere.'' He turned around in the direction he had come from. "Greg?''  
No reply.  
''He was just here, I swear!'' Wirt ran back to the path, Beatrice trailing behind him.  
"Are you sure we're in the right place?'' Beatrice asked, worried.  
"Yes! He probably wandered off, he always does. I shouldn't have left him alone.'' Wirt began to pace, his voice brimming with anxiety. Beatrice laid a hand on his shoulder.  
''I'm sure it's not your fault."  
She seemed nicer as a person, Wirt thought. Though, he supposed he wouldn't be very friendly if he suddenly grew a beak. "Yes it is. I was stupid to leave home alone." Beatrice glanced at him. "Why did you leave him alone?" Wirt sighed. "It doesn't matter." They spend hours searching for Greg, until the bright sky turned to dusk. "Wirt?" Beatrice gently touched the small of his back. "We shouldn't be in the woods after dark." "No, we have to keep looking. He's my brother, it's my responsibility to keep him safe." "I know, I'm just as worried as you are. But what more can we do? We've been looking all afternoon, we won't be able to see in front of our own hands in a little while." Wirt shook himself free of her grasp. "What is an 8 year old going to do alone in the woods? He doesn't even know how to pitch a tent, let alone sleep on the ground! He needs me!" His eyes were wet with tears as he sunk down against the trunk of a tree. After a long while of coercing, Beatrice led him to her home. Her family all introduced themselves, but he wasn't able to remember any of their names. The normally talkative cottage was full of hushed conversations by the children, and sharp admonitions from whatever parent or aunt or other adult was nearest. Beatrice showed him to one of the bedrooms. It was already occupied by her three younger brothers, who offered to make room in the already crowded bed, but Wirt denied their kindness and slept on the floor, and woolen quilt wrapped around him. He waited tensely, for hours, or maybe only minutes, until all the lights and laughter had diminished in the thin - walled house. Lacing up his sneakers, he wasn't sure of where he was going, or how he expected to find his young sibling, but he didn't really care. He couldn't just fall asleep while his own brother was laying scared and cold in the forest. Finding a lantern in the kitchen, Wirt filled it to the brim with oil and fished out a match from his pocket. Even after the wick was lit, he didn't blow out the small bonfire that danced on the wooden base. He held it until the fire danced at his finger tips, relishing the sensation. When it dropped from his hands onto the wooden floor, he stomped on it and ignored the small black spot on the varnish. Eyes heavy with worry, Wirt opened the thick door and stepped into the cold night air.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple people mentioned that ending the of the first part was a total cliffhanger (it was originally a one shot) and I'm super weak to that kind of stuff so I tried to make a final continuation. But this ended up being hella long, so expect a final (for real this time) part 3 soon!


End file.
